


A Coffee and a Kiss

by Luthien



Series: Luthien Does Writer's Month 2019 [5]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Australia, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Australia, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 11:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20134861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthien/pseuds/Luthien
Summary: Jaime and Brienne continue their trip to Byron Bay and get to know each other a little better along the way.Part 3 of this coffee-themed Australian mini-universe. Continues on from whereCoffee on the Roadleft off.





	A Coffee and a Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for Writer's Month 2019 Day 5: Sound
> 
> Thanks to slipsthrufingers for the beta!
> 
> I've recorded this story as a podfic, which you can find **[here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24268183/chapters/58770664)**.

Jaime tried to keep his eyes on the road as they hurtled up the Pacific Highway towards Byron Bay, he really did, but Brienne kept doing things that made him glance over at her.

The first was a little noise of displeasure when she took a sip from her coffee, followed swiftly by a low, "Damn."

Jaime loved the way she would swear, one minute all buttoned up and prissy and English, and the next minute letting out her frustration, while somehow still being very… well, English about it.

"What's the problem?" he asked.

"I forgot to take a picture of the coffee art Shae did for me, and now I've drunk some of it and it's ruined."

Jaime chuckled. He hardly ever chuckled, and yet he couldn't help it, looking over at Brienne's annoyed expression. It was something about the way her lips thinned and her blue eyes flashed with sudden spikes of emotion. She'd been making him smile since the moment he walked out from the back room of the coffee shop and found her sprawled in one of those flimsy little chairs that Tyrion insisted was perfect for the 'aesthetic' he wanted for the place. She'd looked to be all long, long legs and pale, freckled skin that had caught a touch of heat, and she'd been almost consumed by fury. It showed in her every word and move, and every look of her shockingly blue eyes. Jaime had been captivated. He'd never met anyone like her. 

"What's so funny?" Brienne asked.

"If you look on the coffee shop's website in the next day or so, you'll probably see a picture of it in their picture gallery. Shae makes a point of keeping a photographic record of all of her designs."

"Well, that's good to know, at least," Brienne said, but she still sounded a little disgruntled.

"But..." Jaime said.

"But what?"

"I can tell there's a 'but'," he said. He could read her so easily. He didn't know if it was because her every emotion was all but written in words across her expressive features, or if it was just that that language was one that he unconsciously understood.

"The flat white that Shae made for me is wonderful," she said.

"But…" Jaime said again.

She grimaced. "I prefer at least a little sugar in my coffee."

Jaime didn't say anything. He just grinned—would he ever stop grinning again? He felt like an idiot, but he couldn't seem to stop smiling—and reached into his pocket. He handed her one of the little paper sachets of sugar he'd filched from the counter back at Coffee on the Rocks.

Brienne gaped at him, but she took the sugar readily enough. "How did you know?" she asked.

"Tyrion insists that you can't properly appreciate the subtle complexities of the coffee bean if you adulterate your coffee with other substances, so he and Shae just serve it that way," Jaime explained. "But I prefer a bit of sugar in my coffee."

"That does sound like Tyrion," Brienne agreed, tearing the end off the little sachet and pouring the contents into her coffee, "even though I barely know him."

"When it comes to his attitude to coffee, it doesn't take long to get to know how Tyrion thinks," Jaime said, with yet another grin.

"True," Brienne said, and she grinned back at him for a moment before she put the lid back on her coffee and took another sip. "Ahhh," she said, closing her eyes in pleasure.

Jaime's jeans grew suddenly tight at his crotch. He kept his eyes fixed on the road in front of them for a good five minutes after that.

Brienne went quiet for a while. She had a habit of doing that, he'd noticed. She'd been gloriously enraged when he'd first met her, all strength and fire—until she'd suddenly started crying, but then her tears had gone as quickly as they'd arrived, and what he now guessed was her natural reserve had started to take over. As she'd calmed down, and especially after she'd had that cup of tea, she'd become more and more quiet, but still prickly with it. She'd gone right back into the shell that Jaime hadn't even realised she possessed. But by then Jaime was hooked, and the change in her only served to intrigue him more.

"So tell me," Jaime said after a while.

"Yes?" Brienne said after a moment, giving him a sideways glance when he didn't say anything more.

"Tell me who you are, Brienne Tarth. I've told you about myself."

"Only when you had no choice," Brienne said, and that annoyance he couldn't help but want to provoke was back in her voice. "You didn't even warn me in advance about your car."

"I still told you," Jaime said. "I don't even know what you do with your days when you're not on a driving holiday with… someone."

"Oh, that was _Hyle_," Brienne said, and even if the loathing hadn't been clear to him from the look on her face, her voice told Jaime everything he wanted to know. Or almost everything. 

"Boyfriend?" Jaime asked, as carefully as he could.

"Sort of. Once. Not really. Not any more. Not any more _before_ we took this trip, I mean." The words tripped out of Brienne, tripped over each other and over her tongue. 

Jaime forced himself not to let out a huge sigh of relief. "So, why take a trip with your ex?" he asked. She really didn't want to be talking about this, that was clear. Well, that was fine with Jaime. He would ask her about it this once, just so that he knew where things stood, and then the subject never need come up again.

"Hyle and I still sometimes… We were sort of… friends, I suppose?" Brienne looked out of the window, so Jaime couldn't see her face. "I don't have a lot of friends, and I live alone. The short days during the winter in London always get me down, so when Hyle suggested this trip, it seemed like a good idea."

"And this morning?" he asked. "I know it's none of my business, but I can't help but wonder what led to you being here with me now."

"We had an argument," Brienne said, unnecessarily. That much was clear. "He was… He accused me of… Apparently, he'd assumed that we would resume our former relationship, but _just_ for the duration of the holiday. He told me he was getting impatient, and wondered that I was still insisting on separate rooms. He'd been doing most of the driving, and he'd paid for the hire car—because he _offered_ and he has a higher paying job than I do and I couldn't afford… right then, but I'd already told him that I'd pay him back half as soon as I could, but…" Brienne was speaking faster and faster, the words tumbling over and into each other, her mounting distress obvious.

Jaime's hands were clenched on the steering wheel. If he ever met this bastard Hyle…

Muttering an imprecation, he slowed as they neared a signpost pointing to a turn-off. The highway was mostly inland along this stretch, bypassing the little string of coastal towns. You had to make a conscious decision to visit them, these days, rather than just driving through whether you wanted to or not.

Once they were off the highway, Jaime pulled onto the side of the road. The engine growled softly, waiting, as he turned to look at Brienne properly. She had gone white, at least on the bits of her skin that were not pink, or freckled, and suddenly Jaime realised why.

"I'm not going to dump you here," he said. "I'm not _Hyle_," he added, suddenly annoyed himself. It wasn't fair, he knew. She didn't know him. She didn't know if he was the sort of man who might abandon a woman by the side of the road in a strange country. And yet part of him protested that she _should_ know. She should know that he was Jaime, and what that meant. But of course, she didn't even know his public face, let alone the private person who hid beneath. He'd told her his name this morning, and it had meant nothing to her, that had been clear. He'd revelled in that at first. To be treated like a person, just some… _man_ chance-met in a cafe in a country town. He'd never experienced that in his life.

But Brienne was still staring at him, pale-faced.

"I'm not Hyle," he said, much more gently. "And if I ever meet Hyle, he won't know what hit him, believe me."

Brienne swallowed. "You don't think I was… that I should have…"

Jaime let out an explosive noise. "No! What a piece of shit."

To Jaime's relief, Brienne managed a smile then. It was a slightly wavery smile, but still a smile. "So, why did you pull over?" she asked.

"Just… I wanted to tell you that you have _nothing_ to blame yourself for. Absolutely nothing." And before he could stop to think, and maybe talk himself out of it, he snatched up her hand and pressed a kiss onto the back of it.

The sound of the gentle smacking of lips against skin seemed to echo in the silence of the car. Brienne's eyes were huge as Jaime lifted his head and slowly let go of her hand. He didn't blame her. He wasn't sure why he'd done that, except that he couldn't _not_ have done it.

"That's not…" he said. "It doesn't mean anything you don't want it to mean. It just means that I like you, and I don't expect anything from you. Nothing. But I hope that you'll at least let me buy you lunch when we get to Byron Bay."

Brienne opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She took a sip of her coffee—which she had, luckily, been holding in her left hand when Jaime had decided to grab her right—and tried again. "All right," she said in a hoarse whisper. "You can take me to lunch."

"Lunch," Jaime said, and somehow it was a promise.

He revved the engine and the low growl turned into a roar, as the Aston Martin turned easily in the narrow little country road, and they zipped up back to the highway, and back on the road to their destination—whatever that might, ultimately, prove to be.

**Author's Note:**

> <strike>Tomorrow's prompt is "kids", which doesn't fit this little universe (at this time, anyway) but</strike> there is still more to this story, as will be revealed for future prompts.
> 
> I found a way to use "kids" in this universe, so the story continues on in [A Car Trip and a Conversation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20149108).


End file.
